


Focus

by williamastankova



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Just mentions of sexytimes, M/M, Not really graphic at all, Very very briefly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: Any supernatural being with the power to morph - in any term of the word - understands and accepts that doing so is a conscious action, and should always be done carefully, so as to not alert the general public to their existence.However, Gabriel learns that some things are easier said than done... especially when you're sleeping with Sam Winchester.





	1. Chapter 1

Staying in a form other than that of your vessel was a conscious thing. Not many knew - hunters, of course, didn't have a clue, and it was just some unwritten, accepted fact of being something supernatural. Normally, this didn't present any problems, except for right about now, when Gabe was waking up, watching Sam rant and rave, staring at him incredulously, shouting so loud he thought the four walls of the motel would come crashing down.

  
To recount: yeah, maybe it wasn't the best thing in the world, and maybe it could even be classed as a sick, twisted addiction (Gabe prefered that word to 'perversion'; in his mind, the two were basically synonymous anyway... basically). What 'it' was, exactly, was changing into another person (just taking the form of an above attractive person, nothing to violate his terms and agreements with his being an angel and all that mumbo-jumbo) and hunting down Sammy in bars. At first, he told himself it was something he did in jest. There was absolutely no way he was going to go up to him, and actually start a conversation - no way in hell. But it was fun - funny - to look at Sam talking to other people (predominantly women, he noted) and attempting to chat them up, given Sam was literally never rejected, ever. Tall, dark, handsome; what wasn't there to love?

However, after the next few times of creepily following Sam around the club and looking at him until the moment he stepped out of the door with some short brunette trailing behind him, Gabe decided to change tactics. To keep things spicy, Gabe ventured into territory he swore he never would: he interacted with Sam. The first time, he stumbled, with butterflies in his stomach (her stomach, he again noted, having taken the form of a girl that fit Sam's type just enough that he wouldn't be disinterested in her, but he also wouldn't try to throw her over his shoulder and race her to his bed), across the dancefloor, slipping between sweating bodies of barely (and maybe not even) 18 year olds. Eventually, he made it close enough to Sam that he could pretend to fall, as intended, and land near him, grasping onto his broad shoulders to steady himself.   
"Woah!" he had exclaimed, voice a higher pitch than he was used to, "Sorry, there."  
Thankfully, something about his accent had changed, too, and Sam had no idea it was him. He chuckled once, "It's fine. You alright?"  
Gabe nodded, "thanks to you." He gestured to Sam's shoulders, and met his smile with one of his own.   
"Good, good." Sam squinted a little more, and Gabe decided it high time to tail out of there, mumbling something about going to the bar whilst heading in the complete opposite direction. Not looking back, he headed into the ladies room (admittedly after a moment of deliberation) and into a cubicle, closing but not locking the door before using his wings to fly him out of the club, and back into an empty side-street, back as himself.

The next time, Gabe was more determined. The last time was a tester - seeing if Sam could recognise him, which apparently he couldn't - and so he wanted to push it further. Just a little; nothing insane. This time, he set out as a pretty blonde girl, something more like Dean's type (that was, when he wasn't completely head-over-heels, smitten with Gabe's brother, Castiel, which was near enough never), and made a bee-line for the bar. He had scoped out Sam before - not like it was a particularly arduous task, what with Sam being a beast of a man, in the best way possible, and about 8ft tall, which would make him about 3ft taller than the female form Gabe was currently posessing. Confidently, he took the stool next to Sam, and ordered something random he saw being marketed on the wall behind the bartender. Flashing a smile at the man serving, he knew he was in the mindset to do this - for real.

Sam was looking away when he first sat, much to his dismay, but still he continued as planned. Tapping Sam's forearm, he got the man to turn around, and was met with bright eyes and a crooked smile. His 'vessel' shifted, smirking at Sam, and started a normal chat, trying not to be too flirty - that wasn't his plan tonight. However, after reading both Sam's mind and body language, it was evident that was what he was interested in. Gabe stayed put.

They chatted for a while - long enough for Gabe to finish his drink - and he found the only thing he had to worry about even the littlest bit was his appearance. He found himself slipping into his own personality, before relaxing altogether and becoming Gabe-in-a-hot-female-body. It was... nice. Not having to worry about keeping up appearance as the mighty, witty archangel, but actually being able to just chat with Sam. Though he would have hated to admit it to anybody, he actually sort of liked the younger Winchester brother. Sure, they had been somewhat of friend-or-acquaintances before, but now he saw Sam as someone he just bled with. Unlike his insufferable brother, he was actually a likeable person.

Though Gabe lost track of time, what he figured to be hours passed, and the bar-goers slowly started filtering out, many in the arms of another (or several others), and Sam checked his watch.   
"Woah, it's late." Sam exhaled, his light eyebrows raising, before looking back up at the blonde with honey coloured eyes before him, "I'm sorry, I don't think I even asked your name."  
Gabe grinned and batted a hand to Sam, "Oh, there are more important things to discuss. I'm... Gabrielle."  
Sam nodded his head once, just about looking through his eyelashes at the beauty, "Gabrielle," he repeated, "Well, Gabrielle, do you mind if I ask you to come over? I've got a motel room."  
Before Gabe could catch himself, his mouth formed the words, "I don't mind at all." and he found himself smiling for a moment, before picking up his clutch bag and following the Winchester out of the door. It was almost robotic, how he moved, walking with Sam to the motel. On the stroll, they chatted, and Sam held a shivering Gabe with an arm tightly around his smaller-than-usual waist. The man's hand rested on Gabe's protruding hipbone, and the latter found he rather enjoyed being held in such a way.

All too soon, Sam's hand moved, and he reached for the keys in his pocket and unlocked the motel door, switching on the lights hesitantly to find a completely empty room.   
"Looks like we've got the place to ourselves." He announced, turning back around to face Gabrielle.   
"Looks like we do." Gabe smirked, eyebrow quirked, and rotated himself a little to shut the door. Turning back, he found himself instantly pressed up against the hard, cold material of the door, and Sam's stubbly mouth was working wonders against his. There was no turning back now, he figured, and let himself be lifted higher on the door, falling far, further than he'd ever been.

The next morning, Gabe couldn't keep the smirk off of his face. Firstly, he looked at the clock on the bedside table, checking the time and date, having forgotten his surroundings and everything with the way Sam worked with his tongue the night prior. Proudly, he closed his eyes once again, and let his mind drift.

He had just slept with Sam Winchester. The Sam Winchester, he, Gabriel the Archangel, had just spent the night in Sam's bed, with his arms around - all over - him. It was something out of a... 'fanfiction'. Or a storybook, though he didn't care so much for them. Either way, he made himself become aware of the strong arms almost strangling his taut waist, and the breath breaching his neck beyond his locks. He felt Sam pressing every inch of himself he could to the angel, and felt the adorable neediness seeping through his pours. Oh yes, Gabe could get used to this.

But no, he couldn't get used to this, because Sam was awaking, and his yawn was drawn out, and one of his hands was removed from Gabe's waist and was instead stretching high into the air, and suddenly Sam screamed heartily, jerking his hand out from under Gabe abruptly. Hang on, what?  
"What!" Sam's morning voice broke, "W-who are you?"  
Furrowing his brows, Gabe rolled over, hoping Sam would remember the girl from the bar the night before and calm himself, returning back to bed and putting his claiming hands on his waist once more. This action, however, only made Sam's eyes widen impossibly more, and he shrieked in a pitch that Gabe didn't even think Sam's usually deep tone could manage.   
"You!" He yelled, and Gabe saw something nailed to the wall shudder slightly, "It's you! Trickster!"  
Sam's words weren't exactly coherent, but Gabe also wasn't feeling up to calling him out at the minute. Instead, he pondered how - how had Sam figured it out? He should have, in theory, felt and reacted exactly the same as he had the night before, unless he had been drugged or something before Gabe had even come into the picture. No, he was watching over him all night, from the moment he left the motel room to this very moment, and he never would have let something like that happen to Sammy - not in a million years - so that was out of the question.

An eerie silence filled the room, for about ten seconds, until Sam broke into a fit of actually incoherent ranting and raving. Literally the only things he caught were 'you should be dead' and 'how' and 'Gabrielle', about twenty times over, each. He thought it best to let Sam get it out of his system, rather than to interrupt with words that may or may not (most probably the latter) help his dire condition. For once in his entire career, Gabe remained completely and utterly silent.

About ten or twenty minutes later, Sam stopped, breathed deeply, and took a seat on the foot of the bed, covering his dignity from the vue of the archangel (though he had seen it lots, lots the night prior, so the effort was futile), and Gabe took the chance to make a move towards him. In doing this, in shuffling across the king-sized bed on his knees, Gabe caught sight of himself in a small motel mirror, and saw himself. To most, that would have sounded entirely inane, but to any angel - or supernatural being, for that matter - it made complete sense. Somewhere in his content, Gabe had lost control over his form, and had returned to his usual. He sighed and stopped his movement, kneeling beside Sam. He wracked his mind for something - anything - to say, but only found three words in the end, after hearing the jingle of some keys at the door. Dean was back.  
Quickly, he met Sam's broken gaze, exhaled, and said, "I'll explain later."

And with a flap of wings, he was gone.


	2. Just

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe was NOT avoiding Sam after their last encounter. He was just... unlucky.

Gabe wasn't avoiding Sam, okay? It just so happened that when he did force himself out of hiding and he appeared in the bunker, Sam happened to be out every single time, and Gabe just had to leave before he returned for important work. He did tell an infuriated but otherwise in the dark Dean to leave a message with him, of which he never specified, and never heard anything back from Sam anyway. It was fine, though. Everything was fine.

Well, except for when he got his timings wrong. Appearing in the meeting room of the bunker (the living room, as it was referred to now), he gulped when he saw Sam sat across from Dean, on his iPad, doing what Gabe assumed was research for their latest case. Books were strewn haphazardly across the table; it looked like something out of a poorly set out movie, where the crew tried to make it look like the beautiful-beyond-words protagonist actually knew how to read. This thought was unfair, Gabe found himself thinking, because Sam did actually have brains to go along with his beauty. Honestly, it was unfair.

The noise of his wings must have echoed throughout the room, because both of the brothers looked up at the same time, yet - as was unusual - Sam's looked the most displeased to see him. Dean's permanent scowl still remained: it would until the other angel showed up, whenever he decided it was high time to. It must have been mighty fine being Castiel; he could disappear for months, and the brothers Winchester would still be elated when he chose to make his comeback. Then again, he reasoned with himself for the second time that day, Castiel also wouldn't have made his big entrance by sleeping with one of them, without them knowing it. Yes, true, this was unfair, but it was his own damn fault, and it was time he made up for it.

"Sam," he began, unsure of what else to say, not thinking witty comments would help him win the younger brother over, "can we talk... alone?"  
Dean rose to his feet and stretched out an arm, threatening the archangel if he dared to move closer, "Woah woah, anything you have to say to him, you can say to me-"  
"Dean," Sam interjected, looking at his brother, coming to his feet and moving slowly behind his chair, "you probably should go. Just for a few minutes."  
Dean looked incredulously at him, and Gabe couldn't stop himself from smirking just a little. Sam had just told his big brother off, for what seemed like the first time in his life. And for Gabe! He did want to speak. That was helpful knowledge - good to know. Good.  
It took him a moment, but Dean eventually mumbled something gruffly, and shoved past the archangel. Jeez, Sam had a reason to be angry, but it seemed that Dean just had a permanent stick up his ass. He was even worse than the angels.

He watched Dean leave the room, and head presumably to his own bedroom, and then turned back to Sam, who he found looking frustrated, as through he wanted nothing more than to hit him, but he knew that'd just end badly for everybody involved.   
"Well?"   
Gabe hesitated. With the weeks he had spent avoiding - not avoiding - the man, he could've at least had a plan of what he was going to say. Now, what was he going to say? That the night they spent together was the best of Gabe's long, long life? That it was a shame Gabe was in disguise, because the euphoria felt that night would have only been amplified for him had he knew Sam was doing those things to him knowingly? That every time Gabe passed a mirror or window - never looked, for he now hated what he saw - he felt dirty, like he needed to shower for the rest of his days, because of what he had done to Sam? Each and every time he tried to form a coherent sentence, it flopped miserably. Time was ticking; he had to say something.   
"I'm sorry." His heart said through his lips. They moved on their own, and his eyes welled without his permission; damn this human vessel. It was stupid, and Gabe knew it, but he couldn't stop it - couldn't contain himself.   
Sam nodded one time robotically, still breathing heavily, waging war against himself. He paused a moment before saying, "You realise what you did to me?"  
Gabe's heart sank into his feet. "Yes." was all he could muster.  
Sam shut his eyes, exhaling, and opened them in time with his next inhale. "What you did - you, in effect, tricked me, yet again. It was borderline a crime, Gabriel. You realise that?"  
Gabe was almost sobbing, as childish as it sounds. The true meaning of what he did hit him like a tidal wave: it was so suddenly so unavoidable, so wrong. If he couldn't look at himself before, he most certainly couldn't now.   
Blubbering, he said, "I'm sorry, Sammy. I really am. I'll do anything to make it up to you. I'll even leave you alone forever, if that's what you want. You and Dean."  
Sam shook his head, "I just want to know why. Why did you do it?"  
This caught Gabriel off guard. Why did he do it? "Well I - I just... I enjoyed talking to you, Sam. As a person, not as a deadly archangel, or a potential weapon for the apocalypse. I liked making you laugh, without you feeling like you couldn't enjoy my presence without me having something over you. I liked how you looked at me, like a person. You looked me up and down, and you smiled at me. You gave me a shot. And I'll say it til' the air runs out of my lungs, that I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop talking to you once I started, and when you asked to take me to your motel with you, I couldn't say no. I just couldn't, Sammy. And since I'm trying to be completely sincere here, I'll tell you: I wanted it to be me. Though it was me, technically, I wanted it to be me - the real me, the me right now - so badly, and that's the one thing I won't apologise for. I won't apologise for wanting you to want me, even though I know it'll never happen, because look at you. Just... look at you."

Gabe finished his honesty rant rather abruptly, shocking even himself, and then shut his mouth, looking instead up at Sam with eyes he knew were wide and expectant. He watched as the Winchester tried to process everything the angel had just said. A minute passed, and then a second. Before the third, Sam perked up, eyes softening and balled fist unclenching.   
"Okay."  
"Okay?" Gabe furrowed his brows.   
"Yes, okay." Sam repeated himself, "I think you're telling the truth, and for what good it's worth, I believe you. Almost every word you said."  
A beat.  
"Almost every word?" He inquired.   
"Almost, yes." Sam confirmed, "But you are wrong about one thing."  
Gabe was confused. "What?"  
"It could happen. Us, I mean. And don't say look at me, because look at you." Sam smiled warmly, all signs of his previous murderous intentions gone, "Only, you won't be like that girl. Sure, she was hot - smokin', actually - but she wasn't you. She's the sort of girl I want to spend the night with, and wake up without in the morning, as ruthless as that may sound. You, on the other hand, are smokin', and the sort of person I want to wake up to, and spend the morning with cooking and cuddling - oh, don't make that face," he said, nodding to Gabe's fake vomiting face, eyes rolling before grinning widely, "It's true. But please, oh please, don't trick me like that again. I can't handle that happening another time."   
"Well, Sammy, although I was only thinking of you as a one-night thing, and this whole apology was a massive scheme to get into your giant moose pants one more time, I suppose that thing you said about cooking and cuddling doesn't sound so bad... as long as it follows a night of me being pinned against the wall, because, let me tell you, that was fantastic, the last time. Please do that again." He smirked evilly.   
"Gabe, only wanting me for my body, honestly. I'm disgraced." He rested a hand on the back of his chair before making a move towards the archangel, "But I suppose we can work up to that."

Swooping down to just above Gabe's level, Sam wordlessly encouraged Gabriel to roll onto his toes and lean up into a kiss - one that was a bit of a mess, what with the pair of them smiling throughout, catching the other's lips with their teeth. Sam pulled back, but Gabe noticed he didn't open his eyes, instead returning seconds later with more force - more passion - this time. He let his hands wander the torso of the angel, until they rested on his tailbone, holding him as close to Sam's body as humanely - or angel-ly - possible. They intertwined more, rocking on their feet, stumbling back, pushing Sam til he came to rest on the table behind him, playing, breating, hearts beating--  
"Seriously?!" Dean's voice yelled, breaking the pair apart, though they remained in each other's arms, "I leave for FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES."  
Sam chuckled lightly, which apparently didn't bode well with Dean, "Oh, you think this is funny? Bunking with the trickster?"  
"Archangel Gabriel." Gabe corrected, only further infuriating Dean, and turning his wrath onto him. Oh well, he'd rather have Dean's fury aimed towards him than towards Sammy anyhow.   
"You, don't even get me started on you," Dean warned, shaking a fist at him like an old man screaming 'get off my damn lawn!' to rowdy preteens. That would definitely be Dean, give it a few years. Sam's brother continued, "You have about ten seconds to zap yourself out of here before your ass is dead."  
Knowing this was no idle threat, but also not willing to risk losing Sam again, Gabe quickly grabbed Sam by his hair and gently brought him down to his height, pecked his lips sweetly, and flew away, the last image being Dean marching towards him, eyes blown and pupils very small. It was like he was the monster, but Gabe knew he would get over it sooner or later.

For now, he'd remain more than content, knowing the baby Winchester was his, and his only.


End file.
